by Lowri Thomas
The Cristion walked past without even raising his head. Had he understood? Cadno sat on the ground and waited.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Celyn-Bach was frustrated by Glyn-Guinea’s slowness as they jogged towards the Cerdd Carega at the edge of the Dell. ‘We must hurry, Chosen. Time grows short.’
Glyn-Guinea puffed and panted as he tried to keep up with the Bwy Hir loping ahead of him. ‘I’m going as fast as I can.’
‘We would make faster progress if I carried you.’ Celyn-Bach rolled his eyes.
‘Damn it!’ Glyn-Guinea stopped in his tracks. ‘Do it then – but only until we get to the Cerdd Carega leading to Maen-Du and then I stand on my own two feet.’
He felt ridiculous as Celyn-Bach threw him onto his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and took off at speed. He didn’t even put him down as they hurled through the Cerdd Carega and exited into Gwydir Forest. Celyn-Bach didn’t break step as he tore off at speed through the trees in a straight line. Glyn-Guinea bounced and bobbed, the ground whizzing past his face until he was set down, his head spinning and his stomach lurching.
‘We are here!’ Celyn-Bach announced without the need to catch his breath. ‘Take my hand.’
Glyn-Guinea stuck out a shaking hand, quailing at the anticipation of the terrible sensation of travelling through another Cerdd Carega. Then it began; the flash of blue-white, the terrible dragging sensation, the feeling of being drawn out, stretched and pulled, the sharp keening sound ripping at the ears: a whirlwind of ice and fire.
Glyn-Guinea gritted his teeth and hunched over as his feet touched solid ground. A high pitched keening filled his ears and bile filled his mouth, before he could stop himself he toppled forward as he fainted.
‘See to the Chosen,’ Celyn-Bach called over his shoulder to the Druid standing watch in the Travelling Hall. ‘I will return presently.’ He loped off towards the Hall of Mirrors. ‘Hold!’ he cried as he approached the doors. ‘Hold the salting!’ He burst into the Hall and threw his head back in despair at the scene before him: Scores of mirrors flashed into life, one after the other as Chosen men stepped through one by one.
‘My Lord?’ Elder Nissyen rushed to Celyn-Bach’s side. ‘Is there a problem? We have done as was agreed. The salting has commenced.’
Celyn-Bach shook his head. ‘I am too late – it is not your fault. We’d hoped to stop a mistake before it happened … I am too late.’
‘Lord Celyn-Bach?’ Elder Tomas rushed into the Hall. ‘Have we done wrong?’ Concern twisted Tomas’ face and wrinkled his brow.
‘No, Elder.’ Celyn-Bach’s voice was melancholy as he raised his hands to his head and he watched the last few Chosen step from the mirrors. ‘The mistake is ours. You did only as you were instructed. The blame lies with the Host alone.’
‘Was Elder Chosen Glyn Williams correct?’ Elder Nissyen lost all colour in his face. ‘Was he right?’
‘We believe it may be so. I came to stop the salting. I was too late.’ Celyn-Bach heaved a huge sigh. ‘How many mirrors have been salted?’
Elder Nissyen shuffled over to the line of Druids leaning over a table and checking the census. He returned with heavy feet. ‘All but twelve.’ Elder Tomas let out a moan of despair. The sea of Chosen milled around the base of the mirrors, huddled together, whispering in hushed voices.
Celyn-Bach cast his eye over the assembly before raising his voice for all to hear. ‘All is well.’ The Chosen visibly relaxed. ‘I am here to call six Chosen Elders to attend King Aeron Ddu this very night. I call seven Druid Elders to attend also. Decide among yourselves and come forward.’ He lowered his voice and spoke to Elder Nissyen and Tomas together. ‘You both are called by name. Choose another five and meet me at the Travelling Hall. Bring the other Elder Chosen with you – I already have Elder Chosen Glyn Williams with me.’ He paused before leaving. ‘Do not allow any other mirrors to be salted – protect the remaining twelve.’
Elder Tomas and Nissyen were devastated; they had been warned by Glyn-Guinea and chose to ignore his counsel. Neither voiced it, but both dreaded Aeron’s wrath when he was informed of what had happened. ‘Nissyen, gather the Elder Druids of your choosing and bring them with the Elder Chosen to the Travelling Hall whilst I gather a few things together, and bring your ceremonial staff with you. I don’t know where we are going but I expect it may be the Dell.’ He left with a look of trepidation.
The noise of the gathering rose louder and louder as they began to arrange themselves into a semblance of order. ‘Come to order!’ Elder Nissyen called over the cacophony. ‘Come to order!’ He milled through the crowds and gathered those he required to him. ‘All Chosen not selected are to return to their homes! Druids – see it is so!’
The mirrors sprang into life and the Hall slowly began to empty. Satisfied with the selection of Elder Druids and Chosen gathered about him Elder Nissyen led the procession of men into the outer hallways and proceeded towards the Travelling Hall sending a fresh faced initiate scurrying ahead to collect his ceremonial staff.
Elder Tomas joined the procession as he struggled to adjust the leather strap across his chest that attached to a bulging satchel at his hip. ‘Unprecedented.’ He pressed his lips together. ‘My duty is here. There are problems enough stacking up against me without the added hindrance of my absence.’
Elder Nissyen nodded. ‘Not to mention that it is well past midnight and I’d hoped to be in bed by now.’
‘Bed? Bed?’ Elder Tomas side stepped to allow the initiate to skid to a halt and pass Nissyen his staff before retreating into the background. ‘It has been so long since I had a full night’s sleep that I’m beginning to forget where my chamber is!’
They rounded the corner and stepped into the Travelling Hall. Glyn-Guinea stood by Celyn-Bach’s side with his arms folded and glared at each man as the Watchman handed out the lanterns. Elder Nissyen refused to meet his eye and Glyn-Guinea snorted in disapproval and contempt.
Celyn-Bach placed a calming hand on Glyn-Guinea’s shoulder before addressing the Hall. ‘Greetings to you all.’ The men bowed in unison but Celyn-Bach waved them upright. ‘You have been called and you have answered with honour. Each of you are called forth to represent your branch of the Triskele as we, for the first time in living memory, reunite with our allies and come together as one to face our common foe: Arawn.’
Celyn-Bach quelled the swell of murmured questions. ‘All your questions will be answered when we arrive at our destination, but first we must use the Cerdd Carega and for some, especially those unused to travelling, it will be an unpleasant sensation.’ He pressed his lips together in a consoling smile. ‘Elder Chosen Glyn Williams will explain the sensation to you so you will know what to expect.’
Glyn-Guinea scowled at the expectant faces, keeping his arms folded. His annoyance with them was palpable. ‘The sensation of travelling through the Cerdd Carega is not like travelling through the mirrors,’ he said, his scowl deepening, ‘it is like being ripped apart, shoved in a bag, shaken into a jumble of jelly and then spat out.’ He turned his scowl into a sneer. ‘And it serves you Druids right for not listening to me in the first place. I hope you vomit your own hearts out.’
Celyn-Bach was momentarily speechless. He looked around the sea of faces and saw dread etched in every one of them. ‘Do not be alarmed, it is not as bad as that.’ He shot a warning glance to Glyn-Guinea who was standing with his jaws stubbornly clamped together. ‘We shall travel to the edge of Maen-Du via this Cerdd Carega and then it is a short walk to the Cerdd Carega that leads to the Dell. I need not remind any of you what an honour it is to be invited into the domain of the Pride … Let us commence. Please loop your lanterns over your wrists and take the hand of the person next to you – we must be joined together in order for me to take you through ... are you all ready?’
There was a shuffling of feet and general disorder as they prepared themselves. Heads turned from left to right as each man ensured his was connected to the man next to h
im. Celyn-Bach took hold of Glyn-Guinea’s hand who in turn reluctantly offered Elder Nissyen the other as he struggled with a lantern on his wrist and the staff tucked between his arm and ribs. ‘Come on, man,’ Glyn-Guinea snapped, ‘stop faffing about and give me your hand.’ Elder Nissyen threw Glyn-Guinea an acid glare before grabbing his hand; their temporary alliance utterly terminated.
‘Prepare yourself!’ Celyn-Bach called over the chain of men, ‘And have your wits about you when we emerge on the other side. I do not need to remind you that the night is now a hostile place.’ He placed his hand on the Cerdd Carega, the flash of white-blue light marked their departure.
They erupted in a tangle of chaos that spilled out onto the edge of a dark and ominous forest. Celyn-Bach strolled a short distance away from them and stood poised, listening and watching for any hidden foe lurking in the darkness.
Glyn-Guinea gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain upright as he inhaled and exhaled through his nose. Elder Tomas was upright too but others were strewn on the ground, moaning and retching. Glyn-Guinea took great pleasure in watching Nissyen sprawled on the grass gulping for breath.
‘Come,’ Celyn-Bach ordered, ‘on your feet. We must be away from here. Keep a sharp eye out and be prepared to use Dderwydd Drych should I call for it.’ He waited impatiently as men struggled to stand, leaning heavily on each other as they caught their breath or wiped their mouths with the back of their sleeves. Once the last one gained his footing Celyn-Bach led the way into the forest interior, the others following close behind, some opening the shutters of their lanterns to light their way, others swivelling their heads from left to right, scanning the shadows.
The Chosen huddled together, keen not to be left lagging behind. The Druids had Derwydd yn tân at their disposal; the Chosen had a few lanterns and a pen knife between them – no defence against a Wraith Warrior or rogue Helgi.
The forest was silent and the pine needles underfoot were moist and soundless as the procession stumbled and strode long the pathway. Each held his own counsel and not a whisper passed between them to break the ominous stillness, only the hushed whisk, whisk of clothing and the occasional creak of a lantern’s sway could be heard.
Celyn-Bach led the procession deeper into the forest towards the Cerdd Carega that would see them safely to the Dell. As they approached the clearing a drawn out doleful howl echoed through the trees. Celyn-Bach spun to his left and braced himself, squinting into the darkness.
The Chosen clung to each other, hearts hammering, like harried sheep they bleated and circled together as the Druids formed a defensive ring. A second howl answered the first and then a third. Celyn-Bach understood: this was a three pronged attack and the triangle was closing fast.
‘Gather to me!’ They scurried to form a circle around him. ‘Form a defensive group. Close and discard of the lanterns. Chosen take a stance in the middle, Druids on the outside. Chosen face outwards, back to back in two rows and link arms. Druids on the outer, one hand holding a Chosen, one hand free to shoot. Pace slowly towards the Cerdd Carega over there.’ He pointed towards the clearing, temptingly close for a sprint finish. ‘Stay linked. When we reach the Cerdd Carega I do not want anybody left behind. Stay linked.’
They began a slow, crablike march, one step at a time. Celyn-Bach spun in a slow circle as he matched their pace. A gust of wind stirred the treetops and rustled the undergrowth causing the men to hold their breaths in anticipation of an attack that didn’t come.
Again, one howl was raised and answered by another, much closer now. ‘Be ready to shoot anything that moves,’ Celyn-Bach whispered, his arm drawn back. The little group marched steadfastly closer to the clearing, blinking into the darkness, awaiting the first sighting of their attackers.
Unleashed by their masters the Cwn Annwn snapped at each other’s flanks with razor sharp teeth, desperate to be the first to reach their target. Tearing through the undergrowth, churning up pine needles and soil in their wake they snarled and snapped, foam flying from their maws and their hackles spiked. With a frenzied roar of triumph the pack of Cwn Annwn burst through the trees to harry their quarry on three sides.
Celyn-Bach was the first to react. A bolt of blinding lightning flashed from his hands to strike at the three hounds hunched snarling and growling between him and the Cerdd Carega. With a howl of pain two hounds were hit but the third lurched to its right and vanished into the darkness.
Fire flared and roared drowning the bewildered shouts of the Chosen and the furious bellows of the Druids. ‘Run!’ Celyn-Bach yelled, ‘Run to me! Stay together and run!’ He danced towards the Cerdd Carega, swinging his arms away from his body ready to strike should the other hound show itself again.
They ran towards him in a tangled huddle, all gripping to whosever arm or shoulder they could latch on to. Glyn-Guinea’s hand flew out and gripped Celyn-Bach’s outstretched hand and together they pressed into his body as he touched the Cerdd Carega and vanished.
Tumbling into the Dell, Celyn-Bach pushed away the pressure of the tangle of men and took a step away from the melee. ‘Is anybody hurt?’
Racing through the grass came Gwrnach, Taliesin, Gruff and Llud; all carried a spear in their hands. ‘Ho Brother! We felt the spike of energy – what has happened? Were you attacked?’
‘It is true, Brothers!’ Celyn-Bach called back as they slowed their pace to meet him. ‘Cwn Annwn stalk the night. We were harried by a pack of them just outside the Dell.’ He panted to catch his breath.
‘Nissyen?’ Glyn-Guinea began a panicked search, grabbing men by the shoulder to search their faces. ‘Where is Elder Nissyen? Nissyen?’
‘He is not among us?’ Celyn-Bach stiffened.
‘He was right next to me, just as we reached you. He was right bloody there!’ He frantically pointed to his own shoulder. ‘We’ve got to go back!’ He grabbed at Celyn-Bach’s arm and began dragging him towards the Cerdd Carega.
‘We will go.’ Celyn-Bach stayed Glyn-Guinea’s pulling. ‘My brothers and I go – you stay here.’ They filed past him and vanished as one.
Glyn-Guinea shooed the Druids and Chosen away from the huge stone and paced the clearing as he waited anxiously for their return; it took less than a minute. Celyn-Bach came first carrying a bundle of black cloth in his hands. He moved immediately away to one side and lay down his burden.
‘Nissyen?’ Glyn-Guinea was the first to reach him. ‘Oh, bugger, Nissyen.’ He fell to his knees and clasped the bloody hand of his arch-enemy.
Nissyen’s scrawny neck poked through the top of his robes. His face was torn and bloody on one side, his eye swollen and closed, his breath coming in shallow rugged gasps as he clung on to Glyn-Guinea’s hand. ‘I fell over my staff.’ His reedy voice sounded ludicrously surprised. ‘Fell flat on my face!’ He tried to smile. ‘I tried to get up but there was a terrible pressure on my back.’ He coughed and a narrow trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. ‘Damn thing tore a chunk out of me!’ He tried to smile again but his whole body was wracked by tremors. ‘I’m too old and sinewy to be much of a meal, I don’t know what it was thinking!’
‘Shh now, Nissyen,’ Glyn-Guinea squeezed his hand. ‘Help’s coming.’ He could see the lanterns bobbing in the cross, coming from the centre of the Dell.
Nissyen sighed. ‘No … I can feel my strength ebbing … I am dying, and about time too.’
‘Stop talking bloody nonsense, you old fool. Who’s going to annoy the hell out of me if you decide to pop your clogs now?’ Glyn-Guinea could feel Nissyen’s hand slowly slipping from his and so he tightened his grip. ‘Just hold on.’
Nissyen didn’t hold on. Before the Pride could reach him, before Elder Tomas could reach out and reassure him, the light in his eyes faded, his chest stilled and his last breath escaped from his lips in a gentle release. He was gone.
‘Bugger it!’ Glyn-Guinea shouted at the sky. ‘Damn it all to hell!’ He threw Nissyen’s hand away from him and pushed himself to his feet
, the knees of his trousers were saturated in Nissyen’s blood and his eyes welled with tears as he stalked off away from the men gathered around Nissyen’s body in mute lament, away from the Pride who were moments from offering their aid, away from the Cerdd Carega as it flashed the return of the three Host. He needed air, he needed space, he needed somewhere to rile and wail at the wind. ‘Damn it!’ he yelled to the sky, ‘Bugger it all!’
Celyn-Bach witnessed Glyn-Guinea’s anguish. His anger was palpable, his fury infectious. ‘Leave him be.’ His voice was rougher than he intended. ‘Let him curse the breeze if it brings him solace, Elder Tomas.’
He stood up as two of the Pride gently set down their lanterns and sank to their knees to tend to the body. ‘He is gone,’ he announced as he wiped the blood from his hands although his shirt was already sodden. ‘Gwrnach, Tali, escort these men to the fire, see them fed and watered.’ They filed off one by one, morose and dejected.
‘The Dell is a place of peace.’ It was Olwyn’s voice that spoke as she gently placed a fold of Nissyen’s robes over his face. ‘Yet, two have died here in violence the last fourteen seasons.’
‘And yet one has been born here too.’ Celyn-Bach’s words sounded empty to his own ears. ‘Be consoled with that, Olwyn. There is always a light to repel the darkness.’ He strolled off in the direction Glyn-Guinea had taken.
Celyn-Bach followed the tell-tale trail of bent grass stalks as Glyn-Guinea’s staggered gait trailed off towards the thicket of hazels nestled against one of the many outcrops of rock formations that speckled the Dell. The moon was past its zenith and the sky was clear of clouds allowing the stars to twinkle and blaze in their inky black abode.
He could discern the shape of Glyn-Guinea sitting slumped on a boulder, he could also smell the aroma of tobacco, see the tiny ball of orange glow that fluctuated in the bowl of the pipe as it was drawn and exhaled, drawn and exhaled. ‘Ho, Elder Chosen,’ he called, ‘may I approach?’
